


Peace Bound

by 3_Fans_In_A_Boat



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Adult Content, All good things come to those who wait, Angst, Into AU territory, Loki is a Momma's Boy, M/M, Not IM3 or Thor2 Compliant, Post Avengers (Movie), Post Avengers Asgard, long game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-12 10:24:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3_Fans_In_A_Boat/pseuds/3_Fans_In_A_Boat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking place after The Avengers, Loki returns to New York at the behest of the All-Father to learn wisdom and earn forgiveness for his treachery against Asgard and Midgard. Thor’s connections with The Avengers are both a boon and bane as Loki, stripped of his Asgardian powers, must prove his worth to those who would seek his destruction, and ultimately find worth in himself. Eventual FrostIron</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Three days…Three days… Three days…_

 

It became Loki’s mantra when the pain was too much to bear. He might not die of his wounds, but oh, he wanted to. His every breath brought intense pain as his blood dripped down Yggdrasil’s branches, pooling red at the base of the Holy Tree in sacrifice.

 

_Three days…Three days… Three days…_

 

“For three days and three nights you shall hang upon the Holy Tree as punishment for your crimes against Asgard, Loki Odinson, one day for each world that you have made war upon,” Odin had declared to all assembled in the great hall. Frigga, his mother, always his mother, had tried to school her features but Loki saw tears in her eyes at the final announcement. Gagged as he was by the cursed mouthpiece the Avengers had placed upon after his loss on Midgard he could not deny that he was a son of Odin-- that he had been betrayed, used, and lied to. Instead he focused all of his hatred into a venomous glare that he directed at Odin until his head was forced down by the guards holding him. “During your punishment, none may aid you upon threat of death, nor will any interference be tolerated. Loki, I suggest you reflect upon your crimes during your time upon Yggdrasil, and when you are finally cut down, we shall see if you have learned from your ordeal.”

 

_Three days…Three days… Three days…_

 

There’s a reason why the Norse sacrificed human offerings in a ritual called  _blóthorn_ , the blood eagle, as Odin was rather fond of this punishment, the most tortuous punishments an Asgardian could be subjected to.

 

“Do your worst, All-Father,” he had sneered, staring with hateful green eyes at the elder god who had raised him before he felt his ribs broken and pulled away from his body, defiant to the last. He had tried not to scream, but he found that his body betrayed him in front of the whole of Asgard, and the awful sobbing and cries of pain was his own as his lungs were pulled out of his body to flop against his back. Odin never looked away, nor did his face betray any feelings he had as he watched his youngest son suffer as he was lifted none-too-gently and tied by his arms to Yggsdrasil.

 

_Three days…Three days… Three days…_

 

The first day was spent in agony; the sun beating down upon him seemed to burn his tender flesh, the knots that held him tore into his skin. Every breath was an agony. Loki screamed curses at Odin, at Thor, the Chitauri and the Avengers, at the whole of Asgard and Midgard, until his voice failed him, and he screamed on until, finally, blessedly, he succumbed to the blackness of unconsciousness.

 

_Three days…Three days… Three days…_

 

Loki hung there, sometimes lucid, sometimes not. He had visions of the Void, how he had fallen for an eternity (and no time at all), being lost in the blackness, where he didn’t know if he would live or die (was he dead?). He felt as though he were back there, falling forever against a backdrop of pain. Loki remembered the tortuous treatment at the hands of the Chitauri and of Thanos (don’t say his name), and how he had entered into the plan as a means of escape. He had visions of Jotunheim, of its destruction, of Laufey, of his true visage (hateful blue, the color of winter). Loki had visions of his own death, of Ragnarok, of redemption, of damnation, and of blood.

 

_Three days…Three days… Three days…_

 

There are visions of Midgard, confusing and strange, where he is happy (Loki is never happy) and his chest feels tight. He can hear Stark offering him a drink (one last drink) and he can see the myriad possibilities branch (like the branches of Yggdrasil) out from that one small act.

 

_Three days…Three days… Three days…_

 

Huginn and Muninn, Odin’s winged spies, come to him in a dream (or not, Loki cannot be certain either way) in which they pluck bits of his memories and knowledge of magic out of his head and feast upon them (what did he lose?). They speak to him in their high, cawing voices and ask Loki if he would have preferred death (he would), and if Loki hurt enough for all of the hurt that he had caused (he has no answer).

 

_Three days…Three days… Three days…_

 

During the rare times that he is lucid, Loki can see Thor sitting at the base of Yggdrasil, watching him (watching over him) with such a look of sadness and pity that Loki wants to kill him, wrapping his long fingers around his neck and twisting until he can hear a snap. But his voice is gone and he cannot mock Thor, he can only moan weakly. As his (not) brother waits patiently (like a wretched dog) Loki wonders why (do you forgive me?), when Thor should be feasting and laughing with the rest of Asgard at the disgrace of the Lie-Smith. He doesn’t want forgiveness (I only wanted to be your equal) or a second chance. He wants to be left alone. He wants to find a place of his own. He wants… he wants…

 

_Three days…Three days… Three days…_

 

 ~             *             ~

 

When Loki is finally cut down from Yggdrasil, he is blessedly unconscious. Thor demands that he be the one to do so and none deny him the right. He is gentle, far gentler than anyone would have credited him to be after Loki’s betrayal, cradling his brother in his arms as he rushes Loki to the room of healing, where Frigga awaits. 


	2. Chapter 2

When Loki regains consciousness, he thinks that he is dead. The pain is but a memory and he feels safe, something that he hasn’t felt since he learned his true heritage. Someone is stroking his hair gently, and he remembers how his mother used to do that so very long ago.  Green eyes flutter open slowly to be met by his mother’s sorrowful face.  


 

“Loki, oh my son, I am so pleased that you are finally awake,” she says as her fingers slide out of his hair and strokes Loki’s too-thin cheek. He tries to speak but Frigga shushes him, and holds a golden cup to his cracked lips for him to drink from. He drinks greedily and whines when she pulls the cup away all too soon.

 

“Not too much... Sleep. We will speak more when you’ve regained your strength. Shhh… I’m here.”

 

She strokes Loki’s forehead with cool fingers, and her voice is a gentle balm lulling him into a true sleep.

 

~             *             ~

 

Thor is there when Loki wakes, snoring softly in a chair that is almost too small for his massive frame. Mjölnir rests upon his knee, hand loose upon the handle. Loki blinks the sleep from his eyes and wonders how long Thor has been sitting at his bedside.  As he studies Thor’s strong profile in the torchlight, Loki tries to swallow the jealousy and inferiority that he feels when faced with the perfect, golden son of Odin, his adopted brother, but it sticks in his throat like a shard of glass. He’s too exhausted to rage so he instead focuses on taking stock of his injuries.

 

There should have been raw, torn skin from wrist to shoulder from where the course rope shredded his pale skin, but the only evidence that he hung upon Yggdrasil is a series of fading pink scars and purple-green bruises. Loki’s ribs are wrapped tightly to keep him from moving too much, and there is the tell-tale itching that accompanies the healing of broken bones.  Under the bandages, he can feel the tugging of stitches along his spine where he had been opened up. His insides feel raw, and he’s weak from the loss of blood.

 

He should be completely incapacitated, near death, and yet he’s mostly healed. Mother’s work, he thinks, and he suddenly wishes he could have been a fly on the wall during _that_ conversation between her and Fa- the All-Father. Either Mother was passionate in her defense of him, or she just went around Odin and had him healed without his permission. He thinks the latter. While she plays the part of the perfect Queen in front of the citizens of Asgard, Loki knows she does what she pleased when her husband’s hands are tied, especially where her children are involved.

 

But he isn’t even her real child…

 

Loki’s eye’s well with tears, and he’s surprised at the surge of emotions. He’s saved from the indignity of tears when Thor wakes with a snort and blinks sleepily at Loki, who has schooled his face into a mask of cold indifference.

 

“Oh, you’re awake,” Thor says finally. They gaze at each other for long minutes, neither one knowing what to say. The longer Loki stares at him, the more Thor shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his hand tightening and loosening unconsciously on Mjölnir’s handle, until he finally looks away.

 

“You look much better,” Thor says at last, breaking the uncomfortable silence between them. He tries to smile encouragingly, but Loki doesn’t need to be the God of Lies to see that is isn’t a true smile; it goes nowhere near Thor’s eyes.

 

“I’m sure I do considering that I was breathing out of my back the last time I saw you.” It is a statement of fact – truly he’s too tired to argue – but Thor flinches as if struck. He always did have a knack of saying just the right thing to cause the most damage, only this time it wasn’t intentional.

 

“Thor, is there a reason you’re here?”

 

“I was worried about you, brother,” Thor says as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

 

“When will you get it through your head that I’m not your brother?” Loki’s head begins to ache. How many times must he say it? Thor was never the brightest warrior in Asgard but after trying to kill him twice, Loki thought he’d get the picture. He’d have to draw a diagram for Thor when he wasn’t so tired.

 

“Of course you are! How many times must I tell you this? You will always be my family, whether you wish it or not. Even after everything you’ve done.”

 

“As usual, my opinion on the subject matters little to you…I suppose we will have to agree to disagree like we always do. Just go, Thor. Arguing with you only makes my head ache.” With that, Loki turns his back on Thor and pretends to go to sleep.

 

“I’ll just tell Mother that you’re awake.” Thor sighs and stands to leave, then adds softly, “I wish I understood what happened to you, brother; that  I could fix whatever it is that is broken between us.”

 

“Not now, Thor. Maybe one day, but not now,” Loki whispers back, not turning to see Thor’s reaction.

 

When the door closes behind Thor, Loki lets out a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Perhaps one day.

 

Thor was always the optimist.

 

~             *             ~

 

“Loki. Look at me,” Frigga snaps, having finally lost her seemingly infinite patience with her son. Time had run out. It was time for them to have the dreaded conversation, despite his efforts to postpone the inevitable while he formed a plan. His eyes turn to her almost against his will, millennia of her mothering ingrained upon him. Damn her and that tone of voice! 

 

“Why, Mother? What could we possibly have to talk about,” Loki asks with a touch of impertinence in his voice. He narrows his eyes at his mother and she eyes him warily, expecting a battle of words. Loki knows his utter intractability and stubbornness when he sets his mind to something has always been equal parts frustrating and endearing to her, but now he can see by the set of her mouth that Frigga is not at all amused.

 

“Don’t you dare, Loki. You know exactly why I am here and what we have to discuss! Have you gone mad? You are a prince, not some common villain! What am I to think now that you’ve returned to us in chains? Imagine my heartbreak at learning that you betrayed Asgard, tried to kill your brother, and brought war upon three worlds! I mourned you, son, when you were lost to the Void. I wept bitter tears for your loss, my baby, my darling son! Do not even dare to defy me in this!” Frigga’s eyes are bright with anger and frustration when she finishes, and she holds her body stiffly, wringing her hands as if wants to slap him.

 

“I think I did go mad, Mother,” Loki has the decency to look ashamed, averting his eyes from her. He opens his mouth to speak, but shuts it again when he cannot force words past the lump in his throat. After an age, he turns to look at her, all his pain written plain on his face, and her beautiful face crumples into a mask of sorrow.

 

Frigga gently sits on the bed next to Loki, and he lets her gather him in her arms like a child, holding him tightly. He holds her as best as he can, fettered though he is with golden shackles that replaced the Midgardian chains. She does not speak, but weeps softly into his hair, rocking him gently. Loki closes his eye and revels in her touch -- something he thought was lost to him – and feels the prick of tears when he hears her whisper, “I thought I’d lost you.”

 

For a few minutes he lets go of the pain and hurt he’s felt and takes comfort in her embrace.

 

“Mother, please, I am a grown man now,” Loki says gently after she has stopped weeping, but Frigga refuses to release him when he tries to pull away. He frowns, but inwardly he can’t help but feel relieved. She is upset, yes, but she will not forsake him. Loki looks at her green eyes and wants to beg her forgiveness. But that is impossible.

 

“You may be a man, but you will always be my little boy. It’s a shame I cannot spank you for your infractions like I did when you were younger; it would be less painful for all involved.” They both smile weakly and the tension between them evaporates. Loki looks levelly at his mother and weighs the pros and cons of utter honesty. “I know that look, Loki. Don’t lie to me. This is too important.”

 

“Then ask and I will answer if I can,” he concedes, pulling out of her embrace with a feeling of regret. He takes his mother’s hands in his own in apology and gives her a nod that he’s ready to begin.

 

“I suppose asking why would be too much?” she looks hopeful, but Loki frowns and shakes his head in response. Frigga frowns and then sighs. “No answer? Well, I thought I would try. Where did you go when you fell from the Rainbow Bridge?”

 

“I’m not sure,” Loki begins hesitantly as he gathers his thoughts, “It was a dark place -- the home of the Chitauri -- somewhere on the other side of the universe. Mother, you have to tell Fa- the All-Father to gather his warriors. The Other will not be pleased that I have failed in our bargain -- I suspect they are looking for me even as we speak. They will seek vengeance when they find me, and I’m afraid Asgard will become a battleground.”

 

“Loki, what have you done? Why haven’t you said anything before now?” Her eyes go wide with shock at the news.

 

“I’ve been unable to speak since Thor’s little mortals muzzled me – how could I have said anything at all? No one thought to ask me a thing, Mother, nor did they release me until my punishment – only then because they wanted to hear me scream!” Loki shouts and pulls away from her.

 

“Peace, Loki. It can wait a little but you must tell your father.” She puts her hand on Loki’s shoulder, but he shrugs it off as he tries to stand, his face a mask of anger. He winces and pushes his way to the window, unsteady on his feet. Frigga tries to help him but Loki brushes her hands away. He is too thin in the course breeches that hang about his hips and dark bruises ring his arms and chest where he was bound to Yggdrasil.

 

“I have to tell Odin, do I? And what will he do? Will he finally strike me down as traitor or has his ire been assuaged on the Tree? Will he defend his wicked son, a Jotun cuckoo’s egg in the house of Odin or will he throw me to the Chitauri? Will I be banished back to Midgard or locked away here in golden Asgard? He should have killed me in the temple when he had the chance!”

 

“He loves you, Loki, he could no more kill you than I! Please don’t hate him… You know why we never told you – so you would never feel different…."

“But I was different, Mother. I was always different. Even I knew it but never knew why! I could never make him proud of me, I could never be better than his own flesh and blood son. He raised me to be a king and yet… no, I could never have been greater than Thor in his eyes; I could never, ever be his equal.” Loki wipes his miserable tears away roughly and he sways dangerously, in danger of tipping over in his injured state. He catches himself against the window ledge at the last moment, sliding to his knees rather than on his falling on his face. Frigga pales and looks at him with wounded eyes and he almost hates her for a moment.

“I’m so sorry, Loki. I never knew that you were so unhappy. Neither of us knew.” Frigga says after many minutes. She stands regally and walks over to her son and places a hand on his dark hair. He looks up at his mother with unhappy green eyes.

 

“I know you didn’t.” He reaches up and takes his mother’s soft hand in his, kissing it gently in an act of apology and forgiveness. “I’m tired, Mother. I think I need to rest.”

 

Frigga nods once, squeezing his hand tightly. As she pulls away, she ruffles Loki’s hair like she did when he was a child. He gives her a bittersweet smile, the best that he can give under these conditions, and then she is gone. Loki hears her speaking to the guards outside his door as the key turns heavily in the latch. As if that could hold him if he wished to be free.

 

Slowly, he smiles. That went far better than he dared hope.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Fury have a conversation.

A pounding beat and wild guitars scream from the speakers in Tony Stark’s lab, cranked up to a volume that rattles the screws in the parts cabinets. Tapping his foot along with the pounding drums, Tony has his attention on the inner workings of the next Iron Man prototype. Scratching his beard absently, he set the arm down and pulls up the 3-D schematics, puzzling over why the pulse laser isn’t working like it should.

 

“JARVIS, can you tell me why I’ve got a six point seven percent drop in power whenever I light this baby up? The new relay couplings should be boosting the power instead of sucking the juice out.”

 

“With the power inversion the calibration needs to shift upwards at point two percent, Sir.”

 

“That’s what Daddy likes to hear, but what about the additional heat output?” Tony’s hands fly across the schematics, making minute changes and computing differentials to get the desired results.

 

He’s been tinkering on the arm for days instead of moving on to more important matters, like fixing things with Pepper. Yeah, he’s in avoidance mode and he knows it, but since nearly dying after riding a nuke into Chitauri space à la Dr. Strangelove, there’s been a gulf between them that words can’t cross. Not that he doesn’t understand why she didn’t answer her phone when he thought he was toast, he does, but there’s a part of him that hasn’t forgiven her for missing something so important. He needed her at that moment, damnit, and she wasn’t there. He knows he’s being an asshole for thinking that after all of the stupid bullshit she’s put up with over the years, but this was different.

 

Goodness knows she’s tried to fix things, but Tony’s always been emotionally retarded when it comes down to it. They hadn’t exactly broken up as much as gone on an extended hiatus. He was going to have to deal with Pepper eventually but it wouldn’t be this week.

 

Almost as important as the Pepper situation, he’d had his hands full dealing with The Avengers and S.H.E.I.L.D. following Loki’s return to Asgard with Thor. Fury had been riding his ass over the tech R&D that had come out the invasion. The Chitauri were ugly mo-fo’s but their tech was fascinating, years beyond anything he had ever seen. The organic technology had a certain twisted elegance to it, and it baffled him as much as it excited him with possibilities. Not that he planned to actually physically become one with the Iron Man suit. That was just silly, and more than a little macabre.

 

“Sir, there is an incoming call from Director Fury to your private channel. Shall I inform him that you are unavailable?” JARVIS said as the music cut out. Think of the devil and there he is Tony thinks uncharitably as he rubs his tired eyes.

 

“Yes, patch it through. Director Fury, to what do I owe the honor of your call at – JARVIS, what time is it exactly?”

 

“It is two sixteen a.m., Sir.”

 

“— After two in the morning? I’d have thought that all good S.H.E.I.L.D. directors would be snug in their beds by now,” Tony asks in an impossibly cheery tone guaranteed to make the Director’s good eye twitch.

 

“Cut the shit, Stark. As much as I’d like to be snug in my bed, we’ve got a situation.” Fury was living up to his name as his deep voice cut through the transmission like a knife.

 

“Isn’t there always a situation? What is it this time - HYDRA sending neo-Nazi’s to break into headquarters again? An alien invasion? – No wait, it’s this week’s villain du jour. Tell me I’m right.”

 

 “Not even close. This afternoon our good friend Thor returned from Asgard. Instead of coming down to Earth to see his little girlfriend, he’s been sent by Odin as a diplomatic envoy. Do you have any idea what he could possibly have wanted to discuss?”

 

“I’m afraid I have no idea. Odin’s coming for a state visit?” Tony tossed out just to be cheeky.

 

“Wouldn’t that be terrifying, but no. We’re not that lucky.” The timbre of Fury’s voice dropped an octave and Tony stilled. What could possibly be worse than Odin coming to earth?

 

No. Oh, hell no.

 

“Loki. Don’t tell me it’s about Loki,” Tony growled. Fury’s silence on the other end of the line spoke volumes. With a snarl, Tony picked up a wrench and threw it across the room in anger. It hit the cement wall and clanged impotently to the floor. “Tell me.”

 

“Look, Stark,” Fury said finally, after allowing Tony a moment to calm down, “I know what you’re thinking, believe me. I was thinking the same thing when I met with Thor this afternoon. I’m calling a meeting tomorrow. I need you there. In fact, you’re going to do me a big favor even though you aren’t going to like it.”

 

“I am, am I? And just what is this favor that I’m going to be doing for you?”

 

“You’re going to be warden for our favorite Asgardian asshole. There. At Stark Tower.”

 

At first, Tony thought he misunderstood Fury’s words. Then he blinked a few times and his jaw clenched. To say he was angry was the understatement of the century. It had to be a sick joke.

 

“Fuck you, Nick. There’s no way I am letting that psychopath into my home! He nearly killed Coulson, remember? Maybe you’ve also forgotten that Loki threw me out of a window, in the very tower you now want me to babysit him in. No. I say again, Nick, and I mean it with all my heart: fuck you.”

 

“I’ll give you a pass this once, Stark, because I’d be cussing myself out, too. That doesn’t change the fact that you will do this for me.” There was a calm audacity in Fury’s voice that gave Tony pause. What was he not telling?

 

“What aren’t you telling me? What reason do I possibly have to do this ‘favor’ for S.H.E.I.L.D.?”

 

“It seems our little wannabe super villain is not having a fun time of it since his return to Asgard. According to Thor, Loki’s been spanked by daddy and has been grounded ever since. As a prince of Asgard he will have diplomatic immunity so we will not be able to prosecute him in Earth courts. As much as I’d like to ship him off to The Hague and let the UN prosecute him for war crimes, it’s just not going to happen if we want to stay on friendly terms with Asgard. As Odin’s ambassador, Thor has ‘strongly suggested’ that Loki be allowed to return until he sees the error of his ways.”

 

Tony could not believe what he was hearing.

 

“Does Odin know just how much chaos he could do even without his powers?” Tony was flabbergasted that S.H.E.I.L.D. would allow Loki to return at all.

 

“Oh, I don’t see that being an issue. Loki’s Asgardian powers have been revoked for the foreseeable future. He can’t lie. Thor assures me that he’ll be here to keep an eye on his brother while the All-Father watches him from Asgard. If Loki fucks up, the Sword of Damocles will come down on his head, and I don’t mean that metaphorically. Apparently, Loki has agreed to banishment on Earth until he has met the terms of his punishment and learns his lesson. He has been brought low, Stark -- Thor swears that he is not the same godling that wrecked Manhattan.”

 

“You ever heard the saying, if it seems too good to be true, then is probably is? What are you getting out of this, Fury? What’s S.H.E.I.L.D. getting that would make you even consider letting Loki come back to Earth?”

 

“What do you think? Information. Then there’s a promise of aid from Asgard when the Chitauri return, and we know they will. Loki may be crazy, but he knows the enemy; he’s agreed to give up their secrets as part of his ‘rehabilitation’.”

 

“Huh. So why do I have to take him? New York doesn’t want him. If the Times - or god forbid, The Daily Bugle - gets a hold of this, they’ll be burning us in effigy outside Stark Tower. You’ve got secret bases all over; why not hold him in Greenland or something?”

 

“That’s the thing, Stark, you seem to have made one hell of an impression. Thor is adamant that Loki be the guest of the Man of Iron, otherwise he would have been shipped straight to Greenland. Why? I’d really like to know. He said something about an offer of hospitality from you to Loki and I don’t remember seeing anything about that in the reports.”

 

Tony cursed. Where the hell had Thor gotten that? It must be one of Loki’s tricks, because that offer (had he actually made one) would have expired the moment Loki threw him out of the window of his living room. Thor should have talked to him before going to Fury!

 

Fuck that, man.

 

“I’m afraid I have no idea what Thor’s talking about. I offered Loki a drink, not an invitation to move in, so whatever Daddy-O’s smoking up there in Asgard must be some quality shit. As far as I’m concerned, this conversation is over.”

 

“There isn’t anything I can do to change your mind, Stark?”

 

“That’s a negative.” Tony was adamant and was about to tell JARVIS to cut the line just to spite Fury. Childish, yes, but it would be oh-so satisfying.

 

“You know what? Maybe you should speak to Miss Potts about the contract negotiations between Stark Enterprises and S.H.E.I.L.D. before you give me your final answer. If I recall, the proposal was that your company would switch all of S.H.E.I.L.D.’s bases to Arc Reactor Energy. Now that’s a lot of bases and she’s been negotiating for months.”

 

“That’s a low blow, Fury, and you know it. Argh! Pepper’ll kill me if I blow her megadeal with S.H.E.I.L.D.”

 

And she would. Tony gritted his teeth because he could almost see the smirk on Fury’s face. He added a strike next to Fury’s name next to his mental shit list, and started plotting how he would get even with him.

 

“Fine, you win. But don’t come crying to me when Loki gets into R&D and blows up the city.” Tony pauses for a moment as he ran through the hundred or so things that could go wrong with Loki in Stark Tower. “You know what? See if Thor will accept the counter of my Malibu mansion as his jail instead of Stark Tower; there’s less R&D and there are fewer windows for Loki to throw me out of. Remind him that it’s much closer to Jane than New York is.”

 

“I’ll see what I can do. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for all good S.H.E.I.L.D. directors to go the fuck to sleep.”

 

With that, Fury hangs up, leaving Tony to contemplate what he was going to do next. He could not believe that Fury just manipulated him into agreeing to jail Loki. When Tony got his hands on Thor he was going to rip him a new one. And just how was he supposed to play jailer to a god anyway?

 

This sucked.

 

Tony needed a drink and he needed it now. There was just too much to deal with while sober.


	4. Chapter 4

It has been a week since Tony’s disastrous phone call with Fury, and it was two days until he flew to Malibu to make the mansion god-proof. Tony hadn’t been in direct contact with Thor yet, but apparently the counter-offer had been acceptable to all parties, and Tony would be taking possession of one crazy villain in another week, pending completion of negotiations. He’d finally be able to speak with Thor tomorrow, though the anger had died down to a slow simmer and he no longer wanted to introduce his armored fist to the god's face repeatedly. Oh, yes, they would be having words, all right.

Tony rubbed his tired eyes and eyed his bar longingly, then wandered over to his espresso machine for another double shot of liquid consciousness. He had too much shit to do to consider getting drunk now, but when this was all said and done he had a hot date with a sexy bottle of twenty-five year old Talisker scotch, damnit. In the meantime he was in the process of packing up the essentials for the new workshop -- never a fun process – and he’d be damned if some ham-fisted SHEILD schmucks were going to touch his precious tools.

He was wrapping up the specialized Iron Man tools that he’d made to work on the suits when he heard the tell-tell clacking of heels coming across the cement floor. Pepper. Tony sighed and wished she’d go away. He didn’t want to fight with her again but he could tell by the sound of her rapidly approaching footsteps that he wasn’t going to get his way.

“You know you employ people who can do this for you?” she asked without preamble. Pepper came into view, looking beautiful and competent in a pale green suit that set off her features. She wasn’t smiling, but then, she rarely smiled at him anymore. Not since the invasion, in any case. 

“You know those monkeys wouldn’t be able to tell an offset wrench from a tapper, so I might as well do it myself. At least if anything breaks in transit, I won’t be able to yell at anyone but myself.” He closed the box with a snap and gave her a look that asked what she was doing here. She crossed her arms and her frown deepened. 

Definitely not good.

“That sounded suspiciously like personal responsibility, Tony.” Yeah, this was going to be a fun conversation.

“I can be an adult when it comes to my tools, Pepper. I even had Jarvis liaise with the shipping department to get it moved to Malibu.” He stared at her, daring her to say something. She stared back and he could see that she had a lot of things to say by the way she bit her lip, actually, but she wasn’t going to stoop to that level. He’d always loved how classy she was, come to think of it.

“I don’t like that you’re going to be moving back to Malibu alone,” she said finally. He’d stipulated that no one tell Pepper the real reason he was going back to California, and it appeared that SHEILD had made good on the promise so far. Good. He could work with this.

“I know you don’t like it, Pep, but I need to get out of New York. Too much has happened and I need a change of scenery. The New York skyline brings bad memories… though I will miss the pizza. “

“Is this about the missed call? Still? I cannot believe you’re still holding it against me after all this time.”

“No. No, it’s not about the phone call. I’m talking about this…” he gestured at the space between them sharply trying to make himself clear, “…this awful vacuum that we’ve been living in since the invasion. You know that I can’t stop being who I am, and I don’t want you to stop being who you are. You worry and I make an ass out of myself. I love you but we’ve been living on borrowed time for months and you know it.”

“And you claim to be emotionally retarded, Tony. That was pretty succinct coming from you.” She sighs tiredly then spans the distance between them, and Tony finds himself with an armful of warm Pepper. He closes his eyes and leans into her like this isn’t really goodbye. Her breath is warm on his neck as she lays her head on his shoulder. Tony wishes he never had to let her go and just holds her tightly, breathing in the perfume of her skin. She always smelled good, like vanilla and some spice that he can’t name. It was a perfect moment and, of course, he had to go and ruin it.

“You’re the perfect girl, Pep, and I can’t be the perfect man you’ve always wanted. I’ll never be the perfect man and we should both stop pretending. I should have known after you said no when I proposed to you.”

“You were drunk and half naked in a fountain!”

“And? I still meant every word. That hurt, I gotta tell you,” Tony smiles sadly and kisses her neck because he wants to. She sighs and looks at him with a sadness in her eyes that speaks for how their hearts are breaking. Tony kisses her lips tenderly once before pulling away. “Here’s looking at you, kid.”

“You hated that movie, Tony,” Pepper laughs, surprising them both, “But you’ll always be my Bogie. Be safe in Malibu. I’ll miss you.”

With one last squeeze to his hand, she turns around and walks out the door.

“We’ll always have New York, Pepper,” Tony whispers to the air. He stands there for a long time wrapped in the lingering scent of her perfume.  
\---

The changes in Thor surprise Tony when they meet again across a conference room table. While Tony knew that Thor wasn’t dumb, he didn’t realize just how smart he could be when he put his mind to it. He was nowhere near as smart as Loki, or even himself, but he was no slouch when it came to the diplomacy treatise he was trying to broker on Asgard’s behalf.

Of course, Tony had years of experience that Thor sorely lacked and managed to score a few minor points for himself that he wouldn’t have bothered with if he wasn’t still mad at the alien god. It was petty and childish, but it made Tony feel a little better. He suspected that Thor knew how unhappy he was with the Loki situation, and didn’t quibble over Tony’s demand to have access to Asgardian tech like he should have, and even went so far as to promise access to someone who could help him understand how it all worked. That brought a shark-like grin to Tony’s face and made his hands itch with possibilities.

Director Fury, surprisingly, said little during their negotiations, being content to watch the two argue back and forth, asking questions to clarify one point or another. Tony could almost see the machinations swirling through Fury’s head at the thought of what they could do with reversed engineered Asgardian technology. That thought alone almost made Tony wish he hadn’t asked for access to it; but fuck it, Tony was an engineer and an inventor. He salivated at the thought of taking apart alien technology, who was he kidding. 

Tony was a firm believer in Clarke’s third law -- any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic – and Tony was going to make that ‘magic’ his bitch if it killed him. This was entirely possible when playing with alien technology, but he hadn’t gotten where he was by playing it safe. Bigger, faster, better, more could almost be his personal motto.

The meeting ended abruptly when Fury was called away by an urgent situation by a rather stressed looking Hill, and Tony and Thor shared a long look over the conference room table. Thor broke the silence after a tense minute in which he looked conflicted over what he wanted to say.

“Friend Tony, I am grateful that you agreed to house my brother during while he fulfills the terms of his punishment on Midgard.”

“Yeah, about that... I don’t want your gratitude, Medieval Times. I know I’m going to live to regret this but I consider you a friend, and being owed a personal favor by Odin was too good to pass on. What I really want, though, is an explanation.”

“Ask. Know that I cannot explain everything, but I owe you as much an explanation as I can give.”

“What made you think that it was a good idea? Your ‘brother’ defenestrated me in my own home, something I’m still a little pissed about. Not to mention there was something mentioned about my offering Loki hospitality, which is utter bullshit. Care to explain that?”

“Ah. That.” Thor has the decency to look abashed as he rubs his hand behind his neck like a naughty boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar. “I admit that I am taking advantage of your offer of a drink to my brother during the invasion, my friend, for the good of all those involved. I hope you will forgive my manipulation of the initial offer so that my father would take these negotiations seriously and not dismiss it out of hand.”

“How is for the good of all those involved? I remember, quite vividly, Loki throwing me out of my living room window. That’s not conducive to my wanting to have anything to do with him.”

“And yet, here you are. You’re negotiating with me instead of telling me to… what’s the colloquial saying you Midgardian’s use? Stick it where the sun doth not shine? I knew if I offered a big enough carrot -- Asgardian technology in this case – you would be more welcoming of my offer.”

“I had no idea you had that in you, Hammer Time. Sneaky. But that doesn’t explain why me.”

Thor looked at Tony levelly, weighing his responses, calculating. It was a weird look on Thor’s normally sunny face. Tony would have to take him more seriously in the future now that he saw he could be so calculating. He idly wondered if he’d learned from Loki the finer points of negotiation, or if he’d finally grown up. 

“I spoke at length with my mother, Queen Frigga, on the matter of Loki’s rehabilitation before we managed to convince Odin on this course of action. In our discussions we realized that my brother needs to be challenged by someone he respects, even marginally, who is intellectually equal to him. After dismissing the other masters of Seidr on Alfheim and the other realms as cruel and basically useless, since we’re fettering his magical abilities, we thought about whom on Midgard would be best suited for this task.”

“And you obviously thought of your friend, Tony Stark. Good to know.”

“Actually we had your Doctor Stange in mind, but he appears to be unreachable and his manservant made it clear that he would be not accept the task even if he were.”

“Ah. Maybe you shouldn’t explain after all.” 

“Nonsense! This is a tale you should hear, Man of Iron. Let me continue as you will like this next part.”

Tony shrugged noncommittally, and crossed his arms. This was going to be interesting, if his ego could stand the beating.

“The plan was stymied for but a moment, and then I had an epiphany. Who, of all the Midgardians that I have met, my beloved Jane notwithstanding, is smart enough to see through Loki’s plans? Who is like enough him to understand his hurts, and would hear me out when I asked.”

“Captain America?”

“What a fine jest, but no. You, friend Tony. I give you what you want and you give my brother what he needs. I love my brother, for all he has done, and I know you would take my love for him very seriously. I would trust you to do the impossible – help my brother be well again. I ask you, do this for me? Help him see reason where I cannot. Do this thing for me?”

Tony had never seen Thor look so earnest, and he had pulled out all the stops with the puppy-dog eyes. If he used this power on Fury he wouldn't be at all surprised that Fury went along with it. That and sticking one to Tony; Fury was still pissed and what sweet revenge it must have been to sic Thor on him. Then there was the faith Thor had in him…

“You’re serious. You actually think this is a good idea.” Tony stared at Thor as if he’d gone mad, and perhaps he had where Loki was concerned. It was gratifying that the Alien Prince thought so much of him, but at the same time, Tony was never good with the care and feeding of anything. 

“I think you give me too much credit, Thor. And yeah, you totally have my number when it comes to the technology, but I’m nothing like your brother. I don’t understand crazy.”

“Careful, Stark. I know what is in your file. You felt yourself betrayed by someone you cared about, as Loki feels betrayed by us. You have been tortured, as the Chitauri, and unfortunately, Father, has done to him. You were lost and you found yourself. He is lost and is in need of a path. Help him find it and you will find Asgard to be a very good friend, indeed.”

“Wait… Odin had Loki tortured?” He felt himself pale at the implications. What does one do to torture a thousand year old god? It couldn’t be good, and he probably didn’t really want to know the answer.

“Yes. Treason is a serious crime in Asgard. I tried to make him see reason, but Odin is king before he is a father and would not hear me out. Nor would he listen to Mother until his blood was spilled. Loki should not have survived, but he did. I ask again, my friend, help him as I know you can.” 

Thor was right, dammit, and that did not bode well at all. It was almost like Pepper had given him pointers beforehand. 

“Fine. You know what? Fine. Just don’t expect me to be his best pal, alright? I haven’t forgotten, or forgiven, Loki for defenestrating me in my own home. Fuck.”

Thor’s smile was so bright it was like looking at the sun, and he knew he’d done the right thing. He was totally going to fuck this up.

“Now that I'm on board, what's the plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been so lax in updating this there is no excuse that I could possibly give to make up for it. So here's the next chapter, with my most humble apologies. I understand if you throw rotten eggs at the bad 'fic writer who doesn't update for... well, too long. 
> 
> To make it up to you the next chapter finally gets Stark and Loki in the same room together. It's not going to be all sunshine and flowers, but it's a start. 
> 
> Again, apologies, my sweet readers. I hope to make it up to you soon!

**Author's Note:**

> How does one punish a god with powers that aren't of the Aesir? I considered this for a long time before I even set my fingers to the keyboard. The thing with Loki is that Loki is a force of nature unto himself. He is fire and chaos incarnate, and while that isn't necessarily a bad, it makes for a terribly complicated setup. And, boy, is Loki a complicated mess. I think that's why I adore him so much.
> 
> What I intend with Peace Bound is a long, honest look at Loki through the prism of redemption, forgiveness, and worthiness. Oh, and love. Definitely love. Tony and Loki will happen organically, but it will take time to get there. Please be patient while the plot unfolds. 
> 
> The number three is auspicious in Norse Mythology. Three times three, or nine, in fact, pretty much all multiples of three are auspicious. I put that to use in this first chapter, so if anyone thinks I overused the Three Days mantra, that's why I did so. 
> 
> Lastly, I am looking for beta readers, so if you think you can help me tame the wonky tense and comma disaster that is how I write, please drop me a line. Thanks for reading, feedback of any type is very much appreciated, and I hope you check out the rest of the story.


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